Smiles and glares
by MichaellaD
Summary: How Lisbon and Jane cope.
1. Smile

**A/N: Sorry, but ****I keep having to put disclaimers on every story: I do not own the Mentalist or Smile by Nat King Cole.**

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_Smile though your heart is aching_  
_Smile even though it's breaking_

He hates pity. Pity is so patronizing. He's learned early on that when you're smiling, people don't worry about you. They smile themselves and pass you by.

It gets worse when he gets into the CBI. It's his fault his family's dead; pity becomes an insult. He desperately avoids it, and smiles all the time. He goes to bed for many nights with a cramp in his jaw, until he gets used to it.

Despite his best efforts, there's one person who knows why he smiles.

At least she would never dare pity him. So he lets it slide.

_When there are clouds in the sky, you'll get by_  
_If you smile through your fear and sorrow_

Fear is a weakness. He can't afford to show weakness.

He's noticed that people won't believe that you're scared if you're smiling. Also, the effort of hiding your feelings makes you forget, just a little bit, your problems. There are too many clouds in his life - he needs an outlet to cope.

So he smiles through hostage situations and kidnappings (not his own - he doesn't have a death wish - but when it happens to people around him). He smiles when he gets in trouble, and when he gets others in trouble.

And while everyone one around him curses him roudly (some mentally, some more _forcefully_) for his insensitivity, there's one person who understands.

And he fears the way she seems to look right through him. He really can't afford to show weakness. So he smiles a little wider.

_Smile and maybe tomorrow_  
_You'll see the sun come shining through for you_

The new widow smiles up at them through her tears. She thanks them for their help, bravely says she'll feel better in the morning.

He doesn't understand how people can hope for tomorrow to be a better day. They're deluding themselves. There is no reason to believe that anything will change. And nine times out of ten nothing does. The one other time, things get worse.

Oddly enough, the fact that Lisbon subscribes to this philosophy doesn't lower his opinion of her. He won't tease her for it, either. This has been a bad case for her. It's not really that he's respecting a boundary. It's just that, even if he knows that tomorrow will be exactly the same, for some reason he wants _her_ tomorrow to be slightly better than today.

He goes over and smiles at her, knowing he can cheer her up. He refuses to admit to himself how much he wants to see her smile tomorrow.

It's not that she makes him happy, oh no.

But sometimes it's a very good caricature of it.

_Light up your face with gladness_  
_Hide every trace of sadness_

He can't help riling up anyone in a postion of authority. It's a compulsion.

He doesn't like to think of it that way, though. That would imply a reliance on something, like an addiction. So he smiles while he does it; he wants to prove that he enjoys this, that this is fully in his control.

He ignores the fact that there's one person who gets it, who tries to help him with this. She never says anything specific, but she has somehow managed to reign him in slightly.

He can't thank her for this. He can't even acknowledge it. He's supposed to be a white knight saving the memory of his wife. His armour may be tarnished, but it needs to be without a chink.

So he smiles through another dressing-down. Maybe, just maybe, he can make her think that he's happy about what he just said.

_Although a tear may be ever so near_  
_That's the time you must keep on trying  
__Smile, what's the use of crying?_

In the mental hospital, he cries a lot. It's a new experience for him. It's embarassing. He chalks it up to his mental breakdown.

One thing he learns, though, is that crying doesn't get you anywhere. You don't feel better, no one steps up and magically helps you, nothing has been accomplished. Nothing has improved.

But crying has become a part of him by now. He needs something to do, something to focus his mind on the task he has now set for himself.

Smiling is out of the question. He would feel like a hypocrite. His family is dead.

But talking with Sophie, he realizes that there is no middle ground for him. He cannot keep a neutral expression; he _must_ be either crying or smiling. (Being mad just clouds his judgment. It's even worse than crying.)

So he picks the lesser of two evils. He starts smiling again, tentatively. Not often - just enough to keep the tears at bay. He gets better at it with practise.

A smile doesn't mean he's feeling cheerful. A smile is his game face.

There are only two people in the world who recognize this. And one of them is dead.

_You'll find that life is still worthwhile_  
_If you just smile_

She's mad at him again. He smiles. He truly can't help it. It's become to him the assurance that the sun will rise tomorrow, that rain will fall, that the moon won't tumble out of the sky.

It's the one constant in his life. He knows that when she gets mad, it's because she cares about him. And somehow, that makes life worthwhile.

_That's the time you must keep on trying_  
_Smile, what's the use of crying?_

He hated this case. A young girl is now fatherless. Lisbon comes up beside him, clearly worried about him. He smiles at her, trying to throw her off the scent. No need to get her upset when he'll probably have forgotten about it tomorrow.

He's pretty sure he's fooled her. She wouldn't have said anything anyway. She knows as well as he does that everyone copes in their own way. And that how _he_ copes is not something he intends to talk about. She also believes firmly that one's ways of coping with tragedy should never be made light of. He smiles a little brighter, turns away.

A thought comes into his head, brings him up short.

He's never heard her tease him for smiling so unremittingly. She's never even mentioned it.

_You'll find that life is still worthwhile_  
_If you just smile_

He's thrown his heart at her feet. He has no idea what she'll say. She's always known she held the key to his smiles - now she knows she's held the key to his heart for almost as long.

She smiles at him. "I feel the same way."

"Well that's lucky." It isn't until he starts to that he realizes it's been too long since he smiled like this. He's smiling, because he's happy. He can feel something cracking with the effort. It feels so _good_, like putting on shoes after walking across gravel barefoot.

His heart is singing. He's remembering something he forgot long ago, something he'd shut away somewhere along the long road that's brought him here.

He smiles when he's in love.


	2. Crazy

**A/N: This one tells the story of why Lisbon gets mad so often. I had the idea for this as soon as I finished Smile but it took a long time to find the right song. **

**I do not own Crazy by Patsy Cline.**

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_Crazy_  
_I'm crazy for feeling so lonely_

Cho says he'll be right over. She can hear a woman's voice in the background.

She feels bad for breaking up his date, but it's part of the job description.

She feels worse about the fact that she can't remember the last time she was on a date and got a call to a crime scene. Is her life really that pathetic?

It must be her time of the month. Normally these details don't bother her. She can practically feel herself sinking into a well of depression as she drives into the setting sun on her way to yet another murder.

This is very unprofessional. She needs to get a hold of herself.

Jane show up, commiserates instantly with Cho for having to abandon his date.

This only makes Lisbon feel worse. She overcompensates by biting everyone's head off.

Jane looks up at her, surprised. In the flash of his eyes she knows he understands, completely and unreservedly.

Then he's teasing her about it being her time of the month and she focuses on being only snippy with him (because the others don't deserve it and after all that's what he's trying for) and things gradually return to normal in her brain.

He takes her for a midnight snack after solving the case like a whirlwind. They don't mention Cho's girlfriend.

_I'm crazy_  
_Crazy for feeling so blue_

Jane has amassed another five lawsuits. She's almost impressed. That's a new record for one case.

She's so tired. So very, very tired. She wants to go home and let the world forget about her. Suddenly she's incredibly jealous of Sleeping Beauty. Or Snow White.

But now Minelli's upset and he's threatening to get rid of Jane if he doesn't smarten up and that's her cue to apologize and go yell at Jane but she's so tired...

Jane doesn't even turn his head when she calls his name. So here she's yelling at him again. The look on his face when he does turn towards her is so insolent she can't stand it. She's never going to get through to him.

She just doesn't have the energy to get mad at him right now. It's been a long week. Too long. She's just going through the motions. Raise your voice on that particular word, storm across the floor just so, give him a soul-shrivelling glare.

She's good at it, but Jane sees right through it and teases her about being 'fake mad'.

"Bite me!" Okay, after that effort she has no clue how she's going to drive home or make it up the stairs, but at least Jane knows now that she really is mad at him, even if she can't muster up the verve to show it properly.

At home, she crashes on her bed. Tomorrow, she's going to yell at Jane again because that's the only time he sits up and pays attention. She's going to kick him awake again because it's the only time he truly looks at her. She's going to get upset again because it's what's expected of her.

Tomorrow. Tonight she's going to lie here and hope for sleep and wonder how her life became such a mindless routine.

_I knew you'd love me as long as you wanted_  
_And then some day_  
_You'd leave me for somebody new_

She likes having Jane around most of the time. He does cute little things for her that with any other guy would mean he liked her. But she knows the score so she's not disappointed.

But then he buys her a box of her favourite chocolates for Valentine's Day and something snaps inside of her.

"Thanks for rubbing it in that I don't have anyone else to give me something!" she snarls.

Jane bows his head and walks out of her office, leaving behind the chocolates. He watches from his couch as she devours them. He knows why she's so mad but there's nothing he can do about it.

He likes spending time with her too but he cannot make her a promise of any sort. He's going to kill himself after killing Red John; he will never be with her.

They both know this (well, maybe she doesn't know that he's going to kill himself) and normally they can live with it. He hides behind little gestures and she hides behind her impatience and annoyance.

But every now and then it gets to be too much. Every so often they find themselves sitting in their respective kingdoms - he on his couch and her in her office - and they wish things could be different...

_Worry_  
_Why do I let myself worry?_

Her father always had the same look on his face when he was mad enough to hit her. It wasn't a look that she could describe, but it was unmistakable. To this day, whenever she sees that look on someone, it makes her want to run and hide and cower in the corner like a scared little girl.

She was fifteen years old the first time she saw that look on someone else's face.

Her oldest brother had been doing drugs at school. She was yelling at him, berating him for his stupidity, when she caught a glimpse of her face in the mirror. It could have been the twin of her father's.

The shock was so extreme it snapped her out of it. She watched as all the blood drained out of her face.

She almost fainted that day.

_Wondering_  
_What in the world did I do?_

It is so paralysing to be afraid of yourself.

All Lisbon can think of is the look she saw in the mirror. How often has it been painted across her face without her knowledge?

She holds in all her anger for five days. Refuses to show the slightest bit of annoyance. Then her friend tells her she's looking tense and the anger completely overwhelms her. She literally sees red and she's screaming at her friend before she can stop herself.

She runs away before she can do something worse. Her friend doesn't talk to her ever again.

Through trial and error over the next two years she discovers that if she lets her anger out halfway it won't overtake her like that again. She finds friends whom a little anger wouldn't scare off. She never hits anyone when she's mad, a matter of personal pride. (A small slap when annoyed, doesn't count.)

At the police academy she's seen as authoritative, a take-charge kind of girl. This is a compliment. She gets promoted to head of a unit and discovers that her personality is perfect for the position. She's finally found her niche.

She tries to hide her start when Jane says casually that most cops have a brutal streak. How could he possibly know?

Oh, well. Years of practise have ensured that she will never lose her cool like she did in her brother's bedroom ever again. And Jane will keep her secret.

_Oh, crazy_  
_For thinking that my love could hold you  
I'm crazy for trying_

When Jane disappears she falls apart.

That is to say, she wants to fall apart, but then she'd get fired. She needs to find a way to keep going.

So she focuses on her anger. How dare he leave? She can't think about the fact that he might be dead because she'd feel guilty for being mad.

Her team stops talking to her. They know what's wrong but can't do a thing about it. She feels horribly guilty for taking it out on her team but can't seem to stop herself.

When Jane comes back she's even angrier than before. He doesn't have the grace to even feign contriteness.

She's stupidly delighted when her team says they're standing behind her and not Jane. Take_ that_, you insensitive clod.

And things go back to normal, except now she knows she needs him. It's a terrible thought. She must be insane.

_And crazy for crying_  
_And I'm crazy for loving you_

She's horribly upset. How could Jane have slept with Lorelei?

It doesn't occur to her to feel betrayed. All she can concentrate on is how Jane betrayed himself. How can a man with a wedding ring sleep with the mistress of her murderer?

He's destroying any sense of humanness he had left. It's killing her to watch it. She knows if she says anything he won't hear her but she has to try.

He's dragging her down with him but this thought doesn't even cross her mind. She's not trying to fix him to save herself. She's doing it because she cares about him, and doing it even though she doesn't think he cares about her.

Jane gives her one last look before climbing up to his attic. She's the only person he knows who gets unselfishly angry. It almost makes him pause and listen to her. Almost.

_Crazy for thinking that my love could hold you_  
_I'm crazy for trying  
And crazy for crying_

She's so mad she's crying. She doesn't ever remember doing that before. She never was so mad at him before, either.

She'd actually thought he'd begun to change. He'd got Red John, was learning to obey orders, was respecting her boundaries... What a joke. She'll obviously never learn.

He'll never change, and she's the only one who can't accept that.

When he shows up at her hotel room door, she's feeling physically sick.

She's yelling at him, saying terrible things, _trying_ to hurt him, and why? Because she's finally realized that she's an idiot for loving him, for thinking she could help him.

She hates herself. How much of her life has she wasted on him? She doesn't feel guilty for anything she says. He won't care, he never did.

She's not trying to get through to him anymore. No, and she can't hide the fact that she loves him anymore. But maybe, just maybe, by getting mad at him like this, she can convince him that she's done with him for good.

Maybe she can convince herself.

_And I'm crazy for loving y__ou_

The honeymoon phase, in their case, lasts until Abbott walks into TSA holding.

Then Jane insults a guard and laughs at Abbott and embarasses her and despite her best intentions she finds herself glaring at him.

Now he's leaning on her in order to walk out of the room and when his hand slips way too low down her back - again - she whacks his stomach and he's complaining about police brutality.

She's grumbling on the outside, but on the inside, her heart is singing. She's remembering something she forgot long ago, something she'd shut away somewhere along the long road that's brought her here.

She gets mad at him because she loves him.


End file.
